talk

I think a lot about the drama of this city. It is about talk.

I am not someone who has to talk so I find this a little difficult to take.

Often - and I am not sure if this is because I never take public transport in Sydney - I overhear conversations on the subway which are not really conversations but more like arguements. At first I thought this was all about a level of communication not innate to Americans. But I think it is much more than this.

More often than not I hear lovers bickering about someone who was meant to meet someone here or there, or someone who was meant to say something, or someone was meant to call someone at some time..and it goes on. And then not just on the subway but on the street. I guess perhaps I am not used to the publicity of all things that seem like private things to me.

And then the other day I picked up a copy of Evelyn Waugh's The Loved Ones. I am reading it on the subway because no reading gets done in the sauna that is my house, let alone the temptation of 1000 plus cable channels. It is about some Englishmen in Hollywood circa 1940s and quite nicely points this out:

"I've never regretted coming away. The climate suits me. They are a very decent, generous lot of people out here and they don't expect you to listen. Always remember that, dear boy. It's the secret of social ease in his country. They talk entirely for their own pleasure. Nothing they say is designed to be heard."

There is much more to said about this...another day.